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A lover of all things romance, from Maldives.
by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: The Replacement Wife by Rowena Wiseman

Format: E-bookthereplacementwife
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Impulse Australia
Hero: Luke
Heroine: Luisa
Sensuality: 1
Date of Publication: September 1, 2015
Started On: August 25, 2015
Finished On: August 26, 2015

I truly became his the day he sent me a line from a John Donne poem: more than kisses, letters mingle souls.

Rowena Wiseman’s The Replacement Wife, though it might come off as a humorous chic lit sort of story by its description is hardly that. I guess this is my first Contemporary Fiction novel too, and though there is a humorous tinge to the layout of the story, it delves with an issue that few authors will write so candidly about. Adultery. Straying from your partner. Why people begin to look for a way out when a long term relationship or marriage turns dull and passionless.

Luisa and Luke have been married for almost 12 years. With their son Max in tow, Luisa and Luke’s life is a typical page out of how long term relationships can go wrong, without one even realizing that its happening. Luisa receives the wake up call when she meets Jarvis, one of her long ago crushes. One thing leads to another and before long, Luisa and Jarvis have professed their love for each other.

Though Luisa doesn’t allow the physical aspect of hers and Jarvis’ relationship to proceed, emotionally, she cheats on Luke in every foreseeable manner. And then Luisa comes up with the perfect plan. Find her husband a woman he would fall in love with and then she would finally be able to move on with Jarvis, with zero guilt.

After many a hilarious antic by Luisa, when her plan finally kicks off, the consequences of her actions certainly brings forth the kind of emotions she thought she would no longer feel towards her husband. With a bittersweet ending to it, The Replacement Wife definitely is not for the judgmental, the ones who think that the perfect mates are angels sent from heaven.

I applaud Rowena Wiseman for putting this story out there. It must not have been easy to write, because even though this book is highly readable, the material in it is one that pricks and pokes at you, makes you think along lines that you would never want to, unless you are someone who is willing to push the boundaries, all the time. Looking at some of the reviews already up on Goodreads, some readers admit that this book actually made them uncomfortable. So no surprises that this book has received low ratings from them.

Like I said, this book is not for everyone. Luisa and Luke’s relationship or the lack of one, when it comes to light, is sort of heartbreaking. Theirs is a passionless existence. The mundaneness of life had broken their relationship well and good. Luisa’s emotional and sexual needs remain unseen to. Luke remains adamant that he is a good husband, just that Luisa wants it all – things that he has no inclination now to give.

I couldn’t bring myself to hate Luisa for what she did. I understood her. I felt for her. I actually felt bad for her because a passionless relationship is hard for someone who wants more. Who yearns for that spark in their lives. For Luke, it is just the opposite. He is content with what he has with Luisa and Max. This is a question I’ve asked on occasion. If you have never truly tasted the volatility and beauty of passion, how do you judge someone who has, for wanting that?

Luisa believes that Jarvis is that man for her. The man who would sweep her off her feet, fulfill her physical and emotional needs. It was painful to see her ask from Luke, to see her try and provoke him into feeling something. Anything. And when Luisa’s plan works and gives that jolt to Luke, their marriage becomes infused with the energy that had been missing from it for so long, and that is when Luisa comes to the realization that she had lost it all.

Perhaps in the end, Luisa got what she deserved. While Luke got the better end of the deal if you ask me, I liked the story for its ability to make me think. Think hard. About life choices, about how much work it is to actually keep any relationship, let alone a marriage alive, especially after kids enter the picture.

Luke wasn’t a bad husband per se. But the fact that he couldn’t muster any enthusiasm to reach out to his wife, to realize just how bad things were in their relationship, that signals just how dead he was inside as well. I don’t think many would appreciate the candid honesty of Rowena’s voice in this novel. I loved it. It was definitely refreshing to see the side of ‘relationships’ that most authors would definitely not want to write about.

No one likes reading about adultery, unless it comes with a ton of forbidden fruit material with it. But I believe Rowena Wiseman’s take on the issue is insightful, to say the least. If you are squeamish about stories that deal with cheating, this is definitely not for you. But if you’d like to read something that would make you think and view the world just a tad more realistically, give The Replacement Wife a try. It just might teach you a thing or two.

Final Verdict: Honest & at times brutal in its depiction, digs deep into why we stray when we stray.

Favorite Quotes

I sat on the single chair and watched him, wondering how we had drifted so far from each other. He was like a business partner living in my house. He liked us to make all of the decisions about Max together; it was parenting by committee. I couldn’t buy a new winter quilt for Max without getting Luke’s sign-off on the warmth rating and choice of material first. He liked input into the choice of washing detergent, the ply of the toilet paper, the home-cooked meals for the week. We talked about all of these things, but we no longer talked about ourselves: about our hopes, our dreams, our passions, our fears. We had nothing left between us as people. We were just decision-makers.

I thought about Ben, who’d had an affair on Trish two years ago, and how much I’d despised him, how I’d thought Ben was such a low-life bastard. But now I felt like maybe I understood Ben’s perspective. I realised that people don’t make decisions to have an affair lightly; it happens with a lot of angst and soul-searching. Perhaps I should have applauded Ben’s bravery, his sense of adventure and inability to settle for an unsatisfying long-term relationship. So many people settle for misery; you hear of those couples that break up after thirty years of an unhappy marriage, after the kids move out of home. Those are the people who deserve our damnation, not the ones who are brave enough to make a great escape before their breasts go as flat as roadkill.

He said he’d wait for me; I could take my time. He said he knew that we were born to be together, that it would happen when the time was right, and if it wasn’t right yet he would wait.
Sometimes he didn’t say much at all, he simply sent me a link to a song, a quote from a book he was reading, an image of a work he was sketching. I truly became his the day he sent me a line from a John Donne poem: more than kisses, letters mingle souls.

I was an editor, in love with words, and his words had been the most precious I had ever read. They had transcended reality, dug a hole in my head, and planted seeds of what my life could be like with someone who could write such words. But could that someone ever have lived those words fully with me? Probably not.
I ran my fingers over those scattered pieces of gold tinsel on the ground. They had dropped off, become detached, lost their shine, gotten splattered by mud. Those fallen pieces of tinsel were me. I rescued two strands and put them in my handbag.

Last week I saw a new sculpture of Jarvis’s in the Venice Biennale on artnews.com. It was a red tinsel zombie, smaller than usual. In front of the zombie were large silver letters, Emily Floyd-style, saying More than kisses, letters mingle souls. My heart tumbled in dirty laundry. Perhaps I had meant something to him after all? Maybe he did remember everything, too? Maybe this was his way of reaching out to me? But then I saw a small 3D word to the side of the work, a reference. I zoomed in to see what it said. Instead of John Donne, it was the word Done. It was his last goodbye to me. And silver scissors snipped me free from the golden tinsel I’d been hanging onto for years.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Friction by Sandra Brown

Format: E-bookfriction
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Standalone
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Hero: Crawford Hunt
Heroine: Holly Spencer
Sensuality: 3.5
Date of Publication: August 18, 2015
Started On: August 19, 2015
Finished On: August 22, 2015

“You don’t have a claim.”
His eyes narrowed. “I kinda do.” He started walking toward her, and for each step forward he took, she took one back until she came up against her desk. “That unreasonable, unrefined fuck on your sofa gave me a claim.”

Sandra Brown is one of those authors that I always look forward to reading. Since Ms. Brown publishes just one novel a year of late, her stories have become that much more coveted. Because in a genre that is overburdened with stories that don’t really make the cut, Ms. Brown still manages to deliver highly readable ones, worth every penny they cost you.

Texas Ranger Crawford Hunt is pursuing the battle of his life, i.e. the battle for custody of his daughter Georgia. On the day of the verdict, like a nightmare that you can’t wake up from, a lone gunman bursts into the courtroom, firing his weapon, not giving much of a consideration at who might be hit. Acting on instinct, Crawford saves Judge Holly Spencer’s life, the woman who actually stands between him and the custody of his daughter.

Unwillingly, Crawford is drawn to the investigation surrounding the lone gunman, a hero to the public owing to his fearlessness, a person of interest to the lead investigators on the case, all because of a personal grudge with Crawford. To make matters more complex, Crawford and Holly’s reaction to one another definitely goes beyond a matter of “conflict of interest”, made that much more vexing by Holly’s campaign for renewal of judgeship.

With a multifaceted cast of secondary characters that gives the story an added richness, Ms. Brown throws all your senses haywire, the mystery behind the shooting turning taking more puzzling turns as the clock ticks. I had my theories about where the story was headed. Whether Holly was the target as initially thought to be or not. It’s always a delight when an author juggles multiple characters with fascinating aspects to them that gives a story that ultimate grandeur making it unputdownable. I like a book that makes my brain whirl around, trying to put the pieces together and Friction did that for me. 

Holly and Crawford’s reaction to one another was the coup de grâce for me. All of it was nothing short of hot and all consuming! From the very first time these two get together; and I was ready to throw iPad at the wall thinking Ms. Brown had cheated out on us by just referring to the brazenly hot quickie, I was a goner. Holly the judge whose job makes her see things in black and white and the big bad Texas ranger who always colors in between the black and white and operates with his own set of rules. Both are characters you fall in love with from the very start and that’s how you convince readers of the fact that they belong together, even though they seemingly have nothing in common and have insurmountable odds stacked against them. Ms. Brown is a wizard at delivering just the right touch, where its needed.

Crawford deserves a few lines of his own if you ask me. So effing hot. No two ways about it. Just the kind of hero that Ms. Brown is famous for delivering, in almost all her stories. Tall, grey eyed, commanding, handsome and the list goes on; Ms. Brown creates heroes of the kind that you fantasize over, over & over again. Crawford’s brand of seduction works – works so well that I definitely craved for more! Georgia’s character too deserves a mention. Adorable is the word I would use to describe her and I believe no reader would be left untouched by the charm her character delivers to the story.

Fear not if you think that Friction might have the sort of ending the story Lethal did. Friction delivers a well rounded ending to a tale that had my gut churning from all the nervous anticipation, not to mention the moments of fear upon facing the sheer evil that drove Crawford to the lengths he had to go to. In other words Ms. Brown, splendid, as always.

Definitely recommended. For fans of suspense with that bite of romance, commanding heroes & long lasting love that defies everything!

Final Verdict: With Friction, Sandra reasserts her mastery in a genre that she continues to dominate!

Favorite Quotes

“No problem. Better now?”
She nodded and when she did, her forehead brushed against his chest and then rested there. His hands stilled on her shoulders, then moved to encircle her neck, his fingertips gently kneading the back of it. She set her hands at his waist and leaned into him. A deep inhale caused her whole body to shudder.
“Shh.” He hugged her closer and sent his fingers up into her hair until he was cupping the back of her head in his hand. His other slid down her back and began stroking her spine. On one downward trip, it slid past the small of her back and settled on the curve of her hip. And stayed there.
Suddenly neither of them was breathing.
After what seemed an endless time of absolute stillness, she tilted her head up.
Crawford looked down into her brimming green eyes and thought, Oh fuck.

“I’m as much to blame for that as you.”
“That’s not what you said earlier tonight. You suggested I’d had an ulterior motive.”
“That was wrong of me. I know you didn’t plan it. I know you regret what we did.”
“Hell I do,” he growled. “I only regret what we didn’t.” Keeping his hands on the wall, he pressed into her softness with unmistakable implication, bending his head, and claiming her mouth with his.
For crissake, we didn’t even kiss, he’d said.
He rectified that now, fiercely and possessively, and she let him.

She smiled. “You made rather obvious your aversion to him.”
“What gave me away?”
“You stormed off without a word to anyone.”
He looked angry, then chagrined, then angry again. “He sailed in and acted like he owned you.”
“He hugged me.”
“He held you.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Where he put his hands.”
“He and I were together for a long time. We’re familiar.”
“He’s familiar, reasonable, and refined. But I’ve got a caveman mentality. When he put his hands on you, I wanted to rip out his throat. Mine are the only hands I want touching you.”
“You don’t have a claim.”
His eyes narrowed. “I kinda do.” He started walking toward her, and for each step forward he took, she took one back until she came up against her desk. “That unreasonable, unrefined fuck on your sofa gave me a claim.”

“This plan to ‘cancel it,’” he said, “how’s that working for you?”
“Not very well.”
He placed the heels of his hands on her hip bones and curved his fingers around her bottom. “For me either.”
In a hushed voice, she said, “I wish I still had it to look forward to.”
His eyes searched hers. “Do you remember it the way I do?”
“How do you remember it?”
“To tell you, I’d have to get really graphic.”
“Blushing terms?”
“Gutter terms.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “Wanna hear how tight you were?”
She closed her eyes momentarily. “Crawford.”

In a shockingly short time, she was gathering fistfuls of his shirt, then her hands moved up to his shoulders, where they held on, her fingers digging into the firm muscles. Her back arched and held in a silent plea for one more stroke…one more glide…one more… And she came.
The instant he felt her helpless clenching, he surrendered to his own climax. The intensity of it caused his arms to collapse. He settled heavily on top of her, pulsing inside her, his breath hot and damp against her neck as he groaned, “Christ, christ.”

“Crawford…”
The moaned admonishment was so halfhearted, he continued, kissing his way past her collarbone to her breast. He nuzzled the tip through the damp cloth of her t-shirt.
She exhaled a sharp breath. “I woke up this morning dreaming about it.”
He gently cupped her other breast. “Good dream?”
“Sinfully good.”
“Holly Spencer, bad girl.”
“I think you must be right. The dream was exactly as it happened. I was eager, and you were very…decisive.”
The smile he felt in his heart never quite reached his lips because they were lowering to hers. “I had to be inside you. Just had to be.”

It wasn’t until she groaned his name that he obliged her, but tantalizingly, applying his tongue so softly, so exquisitely that her breaths evolved into moans, and her body drew up tight. Attuned to her, he centered the caresses, concentrated them into ever-shrinking spirals, until the sensations painted onto her coalesced into a burst of pleasure so intense, she couldn’t contain it.
He levered himself up and, with one strong thrust, he was inside her, appeasing her craving to be stretched, filled. He trapped her orgasmic cries inside a kiss and then let her drift down and rest while he sipped at her earlobes, her eyelids, her lips.

He was stingy with the pressure of his thumb on the outside, drawing out the pleasure, holding off until she released a low keening, and then he curled his fingers forward inside her, creating a gentle squeeze between the two pressure points.
She clamped her lower lip between her teeth. Her back arched as she raised her hips and ground against his hand. Into her ear, he poured a litany of love words, sexy words, dirty words. Finally she coasted down, and her lazy eyes fluttered open.
He laid a soft, tender kiss on her lips. “Beautiful.”
“You are.” She reached up and pushed her fingers into his hair. “And much sweeter than you let on.”
“Me, sweet?”
“Hmm. With your daughter. With me.” She outlined the shape of his lips with her fingertip. “You’re not so tough.”
“Say things like that, you’ll ruin my reputation.”

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | BAM | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Partners in Crime by Anne Stuart

Format: E-bookpartnersincrime
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Anne Stuart’s Bad Boys, #4
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Alexander Caldicott
Heroine: Jane Dexter
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 5, 2015
Started On: August 17, 2015
Finished On: August 17, 2015

Anne Stuart books are a treasure I keep, to indulge in between books, or whenever I hit a reading stump because there is no other author who scratches the reading itch as well as Anne Stuart does. Book 4 in her Bad Boy series, Partners in Crime is actually quite mellow compared to most of her stories. I wouldn’t label Alexander Caldicott (Sandy) as a bad boy. Nevertheless, in true Anne Stuart style, Sandy gives the sexy to the story in a way you can’t get enough of.

An erroneous caption in a newspaper leaves small town librarian Jane Dexter with the belief that Sandy is one of the shadiest criminals in the country, capable of committing the crime that she wants. When Jane knocks on the door of Sandy’s motel room, he can barely muster enough interest in her, that is before she opens her mouth, demanding him that he commit arson for her. Sandy’s view of Jane the minute he opens the motel door is definitely interesting enough to highlight.

“She was short, and he liked tall women. She had mousy brown hair, and he was partial to blondes. Her eyes were brown, too, and partially obscured by wire-rimmed glasses that gave her a faintly startled look. Her mouth was too generous, and so was her nose, and her clothes were drab, boring, the sort of things worn by a Midwestern librarian. She couldn’t have been much older than thirty, or much younger, either. He stood in the doorway, looking down at her, trying to summon up at least an ounce of polite interest.”

Jane believes that its just her rotten luck that the man who stirs in her a carnal interest of the type she had never felt before turns out to be the man who could actually fulfill her needs when it comes to committing crimes of the kind that could get her locked up for good. However, that doesn’t deter Jane from seeking him out and making a play to entice Sandy into working for her. Jane’s view of Sandy is just as fascinating as Sandy’s view of her, worthy of a mention.

“He was tall, a bit over six feet, and beautifully coordinated. His shoulders were just broad enough, his legs long, his hands, from what she could see from a distance, were well shaped. His hair was blond, probably lightened from hours on the deck of a yacht or racing around a tennis court, and his remaining tan set off features that were just this side of perfection. She hadn’t gotten close enough to see his eyes, but she knew they had to be perfect Aryan blue. His mouth was thin but sexy, his teeth very white, his cheekbones and jaw chiseled. He even had a perfect nose, damn him.”

When Jane turns up on Sandy’s doorstep, for the first time in weeks, hell, for the first time in months, Sandy feels alive, invigorated about the next day and what’s to come. Life had been losing all meaning for him of late, his career not giving him that jolt of satisfaction, his life seemingly a benign existence that he just wakes up to face every morning.

The adventure that Jane and Sandy embark upon is a hilarious one. True to Anne Stuart’s legendary style, the dialogues between Sandy and Jane are laugh out loud worthy at times. No two ways about it. Jane’s snarky attitude entices Sandy to get into her mind, to explore the curves that she hides behind the drab suits, the persona that she hides behind lest anyone take enough notice of her.

Sandy continues to live the lie that Jane believes him to be, and all along, these two fall in love, a love based on a lie that could have devastating consequences if and when Jane were to find out. But then again, Anne Stuart writes characters of the type that do not wallow in what cannot be changed and the ending with tiny bites of surprising aspects to it, gave the story a well rounded edge to it.

Like I said earlier on, I wouldn’t describe Sandy as the dark bad boys of the type that Anne Stuart is well known in the romance genre for. Sandy is sexy, smart, with a core of goodness and integrity to him that shines through as he tries to divert Jane from her bloodthirsty mission by any means possible. That doesn’t mean that Sandy doesn’t bring along the vitality to the story as required. He does that, in spades and I believe he was the right fit for the story under the circumstances. But then again, I keep envisioning a bit of an edgier Sandy, someone who forces Jane out of her shell with the “cruelty” that only heroes of that nature are capable of. Alas, that wasn’t meant to be in Partners in Crime.

Jane is a character who had come from one of those families that aren’t actually trying to be cruel, but ends up being just that towards one of their children. Jane had learnt long ago to expect her dues and move on. Never in a hundred years would she have expected to fall for a seedy criminal, but that is exactly what she thinks she has fallen for, in the process of committing the only crime she had ever wanted to commit in her straight and narrow life.

Sandy brings to Jane’s life, the color that had been missing in it. The sensations that she had never gotten to experience with another. The kind of feelings that she had always shunned because she thought they weren’t for someone like her. To find it with Sandy, to accept it, well, that’s the fun part of the story.

Recommended for fans of Anne Stuart. If you want one of her darker heroes, this won’t do any good. But nevertheless it does provide the sort of storytelling that only Anne Stuart can deliver.

Final Verdict: A bit more mellow than the usual, but just as sexy. Just as good!

Favorite Quotes

The feel of his hand on her breast, even through the lacy bra, shocked and aroused her. His mouth was on hers, wet, hot, seeking, his tongue and lips taking complete, unquestioning control of her and overwhelming any ounce of restraint she might have had. Too many emotions were batting at her, too much adrenaline, too much stimulation. She snaked her arms around his neck, pressed her breast against his hand and kissed him back, wanting nothing more than his mouth on hers, that desperate, erotic claiming that was shaking her to the very marrow of her bones.

“What would you call home?”
“The second floor of a run-down Victorian house in Baraboo, Wisconsin. I used to live in a boxy apartment but it drove me crazy.”
“Somehow I don’t see you as a Victorian.”
“Don’t you? I’ve been called prudish in my time.” She knew her voice sounded raw, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Sandy noticed everything. “Who called you prudish? Your ex-husband?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have anything to do with your Victorian lifestyle?”
Jane sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t be so damned nosy. Why don’t we change the subject?”
“Lovely weather,” he said obediently enough.

He was darkness, powerful, sexual, wiping out the terrors of the night and the anguish of loss and betrayal, he was life and heat and desire, and he was everything she ever needed.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and she was on fire, her hands desperate for the feel of his flesh beneath her, her mouth bold with deep, hurried kisses. He put his mouth on her breasts, and she arched her back like a cat in the intensity of her reaction, he slid his hand between her thighs and she shattered at his first gentle touch.
“Easy,” he whispered. “Easy now.” But she couldn’t, wouldn’t slow down. She was shaking all over, covered with a fine film of sweat, shivering and helpless as her needs raged out of control, unable to even say the words to beg him.

With a moan of fear and anticipation she sank down, guided by his hands on her hips, until he filled her. She let out a muffled cry at the unexpected feel of him, and the hands on her hips held her still, giving her time to accustom herself to his invasion. She bowed her head for a moment, absorbing the impact, and then she opened her eyes to meet his fierce gaze.
“I still don’t trust you,” she whispered, not giving an inch.
He grinned then, and his fingers dug into her hips as he slowly withdrew. “It doesn’t matter.” And he arched up, deep within her.

He reached down and held her hips, striving with unquestionable intent, and his mouth covered hers, his tongue in her mouth, a dual invasion. She was crying, she knew she was, she could feel her face wet with tears, but all she could feel was the man within her body, carrying her places she hadn’t even dreamed existed.
Suddenly his body tensed, and he lifted his head, his eyes glittering down into hers with a fierce intensity. She could feel the life, the love pumping into her, and then everything shattered around her, dissolving into a maelstrom of sensation and dark, dangerous release.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Forgotten by Maggie Shayne

Format: E-bookforgotten
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense
Series: Shayne’s Supernaturals, #1
Publisher: Harlequin
Hero: Ashville Allan Coye
Heroine: Josephine Belinda Bradshaw
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: April 21, 2012
Started On: August 6, 2015
Finished On: August 8, 2015

I love romances that involve two people who think they are ill suited for one another. I know that that’s not just me. There’s so much fun that happens before they do realize that their ultimate partner lies in one another. Add to that a twist paranormal, as in the heroine being a psychic, well that’s just the icing on the cake for me.

It’s being a long time since I read and re-read Linda Howard’s Dream Man. Ever since, I’ve always looked out for any other stories that would bring forth as much emotion as that particular tale did for me. Forgotten by Maggie Shayne filled that need somewhat, and for that and more, I enjoyed the story that unfolded, so very much.

Ashville Allan Coye (Ash), is lying on a hospital bed, pretending that an accident he’d met with had resulted in him landing with a bout of amnesia, when Josephine Belinda Bradshaw (Joey) walks into his hospital room and announces that she’s his somewhat newly wedded wife.

Ash had been pursuing the story behind The Syracuse Slasher when the accident happened and when Joey walks in and drops the obviously false news of his marital status, Ash is hard pressed to find out what it is exactly that this woman who drives a Harley and is as far removed from every condition he has jotted down for the future missus to meet is up to.

Joey’s psychic abilities are more of a pain to her than something she rejoices in. For one thing, it gets her labeled as a crackpot or worse. For another, her ability at times is not the most cooperative, especially when she wants to help people who could be in mortal danger. With Ash, Joey is determined to stick by his side and hopefully save him from becoming another victim of The Syracuse Slasher together with a different agenda of her own that involves her own family.

Ash and Joey’s connection to one another stems from the sizzling attraction that flares between them from the get go. Ash who deals with issues stemming from growing up with a drunken whore of a mother, his inability to trust a woman to do right by him makes him question his attraction towards Joey. Joey has her own issues to deal with, her lack of trust when it comes to the opposite sex, given the philandering ways of her father. Or so she believes it to be.

Amidst increasing danger to both their selves, Ash and Joey find in each other, a partner they’d be willing to spend their life with, if only the ramifications of coming clean with the whole charade on both sides would give them a fighting chance at what they have between them. Added to the mix, is a killer whose mad enough to go on a rampage, just to feed the delusion that keeps the hunger for the kills at bay.

Maggie Shayne does a splendid job of bringing to life Ash & Joey, two characters whom you fall in love with & root for from the onset. Ash is the journalist, who sees everything in provable facts and figures. And Joey is the woman who shakes up everything he believes in, even what he had perceived as would be the best fit for him when it comes to a life partner.

With a couple of twists thrown in for good measure, Maggie Shayne delivers a story worth sinking into. Loved it.

Final Verdict: Romance, heat & murder. What more can this twisted mind of mine ask for?

Favorite Quotes

To change the subject, she waved a hand to indicate the room they were in, a sparse area with cement floors and white walls littered with exercise equipment “This is my torture chamber, as you can see. There’s a bathroom through here, and that other door leads to the basement”
His gaze lingered on the weight bench and narrowed. “You pump iron?”
“You disapprove?”
“It’s unfeminine.”
“The results aren’t.”
He looked her over thoroughly, his gaze traveling a deliberately slow path over her. For the first time in her life, Joey felt uncomfortable in skintight pants and a skimpy bustier. “I’ll let you know,” he quipped.”

His tongue swept into her mouth like a loving caress, touching her in a probing search as if he were an explorer, the first to enter there. She felt as if he were tasting her, and liking what he found as his tongue dipped and danced around her mouth. She began to shake.
It shocked her. She tried to analyze it. She wasn’t shivering with cold, or with fear. Her arms curled tighter around his neck. Her body pressed harder against his, and her fingers threaded into his hair. This was good. Whatever this was, it was incredibly good. When he withdrew his tongue, she thrust her own into his mouth. But hers was hungrier, more demanding, and she felt him shudder in response.

He stood utterly still for a moment fighting the demon that drove him to turn her around, to look at her, to touch her. It was a hard battle, harder because it was one he didn’t want to win. But he stiffened his resolve and reached past her for the T-shirt. As she gripped the bed for support, he pulled it over her head, holding it in place while she inserted one arm, then the other. And it really was accidental that the backs of his fingers brushed over her breasts as he pulled the shirt down over her body.
He felt her shudder, though. He lifted her hair out of the shirt’s collar, and then he held it aside and lowered his lips to the back of her neck. He didn’t think about doing it, wasn’t even aware he was going to until his lips brushed over her nape. He heard the breath escape from her in a rush, and he felt something akin to pain squeeze his chest.

“Ah, God, Joey.” It was a whisper, hoarse, as if he were in some kind of pain. His hand drifted downward, over her chin, her throat. His fingertips skimmed her breast, then his palm closed over it.
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back in reaction to his touch. His hand slid over the curve of her waist, around to the small of her back, and he drew her to him. Free hand driving into her hair, he brought her face level again, and then he kissed her.

His head angled. His lips slid over her face, and he nibbled at her jaw, then moved lower, the damp warmth of his mouth bathing her neck and the hollow below her ear. Her heart raced, drowning out the sounds of traffic below. Her senses filled with him, with wanting him, needing him.
He bent her backward and took one breast into his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders tightened, and she felt the shudder that ran through him. He suckled her, making her gasp for breaths that wouldn’t seem to come.

He pushed her, and he pulled her. Played with her as if she were a puppet on a string, driving her to the edge of madness only to let her hang there, begging for fulfillment in the language of her body. She writhed beneath him, longing for it, mindless in her need.
Then he gave her what she craved, quickening his pace, deepening his invasion into her body, driving into her as she felt his need grow to equal her own.
And then she exploded.

She blinked at him, her eyes wide and wonder filled. “I’m so afraid of this,” she whispered.
“Of wanting me?” He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and ran his palms over the warm, smooth curve of her back.
“Of… of needing you.”
He closed his eyes at the impact of her words. “I know.”
“It’s overpowering. It’s getting worse all the time, and I—”
“And I can’t do anything to stop it,” he finished for her. “I’m not sure I want to stop it.”

He picked her up, hands on the backs of her parted thighs, carefully avoiding the bandaged wound. He lowered her over his arousal. Her tightness was like a hand, gripping, squeezing. He held her hips and moved her up and down over him. She clung to him, feeding on his mouth as if she were starved for it. Her breasts, their nipples pebble hard, brushed over his chest, driving him insane.

He kissed her jaw, her throat Her head tipped back as he bit and suckled her neck. He pushed her back still farther, and she arched to give him access to her breasts. Those dark peaks strained toward him, silently begging for attention. He laved them with his tongue, going at one after the other like a man possessed. Her body moved faster, harder, taking him more deeply into her with each thrust. He bit her nipples, tugged at them, sucked them mercilessly, until she was trembling and biting her lip to keep quiet.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | Smashwords | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: If You Only Knew by Kristan Higgins

Format: E-bookifyouonlyknew
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Standalone
Publisher: MIRA
Hero: Leo Killian
Heroine: Jenny Tate
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: August 25, 2015
Started On: August 10, 2015
Finished On: August 14, 2015

If You Only Knew by Kristan Higgins comes after a seemingly long wait since her last novel. I’ve been scouring through Netgalley, and even tweeted to Ms. Higgins go find out when her next book was going to be released. And as luck would have it, I found this up on Netgalley after finding out its release date and since then have been on tenterhooks, all giddy of course, because that’s what happens when you have a book that you’d love to really sink your teeth into, waiting for you.

If You Only Knew, like most stories by Kristan Higgins, is told in the first person. The difference perhaps is that it tells the story of two people, Jenny and Rachel, two sisters, their love lives or the lack of, their struggles which reaches out to you and the emotions that practically whip your insides to a frenzy. Kristan takes your emotions or rather your soul on a roller coaster ride, makes it reach heights that you never thought possible with the way this story plays with your emotions.

Wedding dress designer Jenny Tate is ready to leave the big city life behind and move back to her hometown, and perhaps in the process learn to let go of her ex-husband whom she has never truly managed to divorce from her heart. The “jovial” relations she has with him and his newly wedded wife, though told with the sort of humor that makes it easy to laugh through the heartache, is more than relatable.

Jenny’s sister Rachel struggling for perfection with the handful that is her triplets, finds her seemingly picture perfect marriage in a rut when she opens a sext message that had been meant for her husband. Unable to face the reality of reconciling with the truth, Rachel goes out of her way to make things work with her husband, showing to us all that even though we promise ourselves that we would never be that woman who hangs around with the guy who hurts us beyond repair, walking away from a marriage or a relationship, especially when kids are involved, is one of the hardest decisions you would ever have to make.

Jenny has this quirky factor to her character that makes her go into daydream mode every time she eyes someone remotely potentially partner worthy. That’s the exact same thing that happens to her when she first encounters her landlord Leo Killian, his pain filled eyes and don’t-get-too-close-to-me attitude acting like a siren’s call that beckons her heart. Jenny’s journey towards happily ever after is not an easy one, but worth all the pain in the end.

Kristan spins a tale that makes you cry god honest tears as you read through the struggles and the turns the lives of Jenny and Rachel takes along the way. The second guessing, the doubts that creeps into you along the way, the self recrimination during the darkest moments of your life, they are all dealt with in this masterpiece with the sort of flair that only an author like Kristan can pull off.

Leo’s character is equally haunting, the secrets he hides in his soul coming to light towards the very end of the novel. Teaching beautiful music to a handful of youngsters, Leo would rather keep to himself, live by himself, than allow someone into his life, to open up his heart for the kind of heartbreak he never wants to subject himself to, ever again. Just like the music that lives inside the musical prodigy that is one of his students, If You Only Knew hits every note perfectly; sometimes it gets messy, ugly and ties you up in knots. But the whole of it together just takes your breathe away. 

The high you feel from reading a good novel is difficult to come down from. It also makes picking your next read that much more difficult because a story like this comes along, if at all, more rarely than you would think. I have just this left to say.

Dear Kristan, If You Only Knew was well worth the wait. It broke my heart & you managed to put it back together again. Might never be as it was before. But it’s all good. Because you left me with a smile in my heart & the beautiful glow of love in my soul.

Definitely recommended!

Final Verdict: So much heart packed into 400 plus pages; it wrings everything out of you!

Favorite Quotes

“You eye-fucking me?” he asks.
“What? No! I’m just… I’m not, okay? I just need my key, but the stupid super isn’t here.”
“The stupid super is right in front of you.”
I close my eyes, sigh and then smile. “Hi. I’m Jenny. The new tenant.”
“Leo. Keep your eyes to yourself, for the record.”

Then he slides his hand around to the back of my head and pulls me to him. One of my hands goes to his chest, and I can feel the solid thumping of his heart. “Recreation only,” he murmurs, his voice scraping a part low in my stomach. “Got it?”
“Got it,” I whisper back.
His eyes crinkle with a small smile, and then he’s kissing me, and his mouth is… God, his mouth is good at what it’s doing—a slow, gentle, thorough kiss that makes my insides leap and spark.

And when he left, he pushed me against the front door and gave me a long, hot, lingering kiss. His hands slid down to my thighs, and he picked me up against him and I wrapped my legs around him, my back pressed against the door, and if it wasn’t the horniest moment of my life, I don’t know what was. Then he let me slide down against him, his hands going to my hair.
“Make sure your rent is on time,” he murmured against my mouth, and then he smiled and was gone, and I staggered back to the couch and collapsed there, grinning like an idiot.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBookMall | ARe | HQ | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Heat Exchange by Shannon Stacey

Format: E-bookheatexchange
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: Boston Fire, #1
Publisher: Carina Press
Hero: Aidan Hunt
Heroine: Lydia Kincaid
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: August 25, 2015
Started On: August 14, 2015
Finished On: August 16, 2015

Shannon Stacey graces her readers with a brand new series with the release of Heat Exchange, the debut novel of the Boston Fire series. Lydia Kincaid is forced to return to her hometown, albeit for a little while, when her sister requires her presence back home. Lydia had walked away from the life she had lived after being through it all. The daughter of a fireman and moving onto become the wife of one had taught her the hardships and the stress related to living the life of the one who stays back and worries about the safety of your loved ones.

Aidan Hunt is one of Lydia’s brother’s best friends, a firefighter himself who knows he should stay away from Lydia for more reasons than one. Lydia is the daughter of his mentor and also the ex-wife of a fireman who had worked in their regiment. Yet, the heat that is between Lydia and himself is palpable, strong enough that it makes staying away an impossible feat.

Lydia can’t believe herself when she starts having the hots for her annoying brother’s equally annoying best friend. Being 4 years older than Aidan, Lydia believes she should be able to shrug off the attraction that simmers in the air between them, but finds herself unable to say no and turn her back on what being with Aidan means.

When I picked up Heat Exchange, I expected a novel that would sweep me off my feet, not my fault entirely when Shannon Stacey is an author who has delivered on that countless times with her novels. Sadly, when it came to Heat Exchange, I found that the book was just okay at best. Nothing in particular about the story stood out for me or grabbed me in a way that would be unforgettable.

I found myself a bit annoyed with Lydia at times. Aidan though, was a sweetheart through and through. Perhaps they are ying and yang under the circumstances, each being the direct opposite of one another. There is a little side story happening alongside that with the main story of Aidan and Lydia; that of Lydia’s sister and her husband who hits a rough patch in their marriage. That story line actually had the potential to be an interesting one, but Shannon nipped that right in the bud by resolving everything together with the main story.

Recommended for fans of Shannon Stacey and those who love reading about firefighter heroes.

Final Verdict: Boston Fire series; set to deliver family drama & hot firefighters with a bite of love.

Favorite Quotes

“Aidan?” she whispered against his mouth.
“About a minute and a half left. I need to feel you, Lydia.”
Then his fingertips slid over her clit and she sucked in a breath. His teeth caught her bottom lip and she moaned, shocked by the intensity of her reaction to his touch. She knew it had been a long time, but she was already teetering on the brink. He slid a finger into her and she scraped her fingernails down his back, wanting more.
The heel of his hand pressed against her clit as he buried two fingers deep inside of her. She broke off the kiss, burying her face against his shoulder.
“You have to be quiet,” he whispered against her ear. “You are so fucking hot, Lydia.”

Aidan drove into her, burying his cock so deep within her she almost came immediately. She cried out, but he covered her mouth with his. The muscles of his back worked as he fucked her slowly and with long, deliberate strokes—almost pulling out completely before burying himself deep again. When she moaned his name, hovering on the brink, he quickened his pace.
“Come for me,” he said, his voice raspy.
And she did.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy by Vanessa Kelly

Format: E-bookhowtoplanaweddingforaroyalspy
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Historical Romantic Suspense
Series: The Renegade Royals, #3
Publisher: Zebra
Hero: Captain William Endicott
Heroine: Evelyn Whitney
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: January 6, 2015
Started On: July 27, 2015
Finished On: August 2, 2015

Book 3 in the Renegade Royals series tells the story of Captain William Endicott (Will), the bastard son of the Duke of York, a military officer and a spy for the government. Returning from the bloody battlefields, Will is more than looking forward to putting up his feet and relaxing and perhaps determine on the course which he wants to steer his future. All that is thwarted however, when he is summoned by none other than his father, requiring him to work on a mission of utmost importance. A mission rendered doubly tricky by the fact that he is to spy on his former childhood sweetheart, Miss Evelyn Whitney (Evie).

Evie is the typical variety of plain Jane heroine if ever there was one. A wallflower and happy to be one, Evie is comfortable with who she is, letting her twin Edie shine in her stead. Working on charity supporting Irish immigrants with her almost fiance’, Evie is looking forward to settling down with the man with whom she shares a lot of similar interests with, a man who wouldn’t crush her dreams and destroy the very ground on which she stands on like Will, her childhood friend and the love of her life had done.

When Will enters into Evie’s life all of a sudden, no one is more dismayed than Evie herself. The fact that she responds to Will’s presence with a ferocity of her being that she can’t help yet want to hide from, Evie finds herself in a dilemma of epic proportions when her mother starts to push her and Will together. A lot of theatrics and misunderstandings determine the fate of this second chance at love Will and Evie gets, amidst a plot of assassination of the Kingdom’s finest that Will bears the responsibility of stopping.

How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy would have to be the story from the series which I found the hardest to get myself into. The plot starts off slowly, the most riveting thing about it being the sparks that fly between the secondary characters, Edie and Will’s best friend and cousin Captain Alasdair Gilbride whose story is up next. When the main couple in question fades to a mere dot in the presence of secondary characters, well there’s a damper on the excitement of the reader if ever there was one.

The story begins to pick up during the latter half, and mostly due to the assassination plot stirring in the midst of all the antics between Will and Evie. Both protagonists have trust issues stemming from different things. Will’s distrust stems from the fact that he doesn’t bring himself to trust his judgement where Evie is concerned, the conflict of interest between doing his job by his country and doing right by the love of his life, the latter being something which he figures out only much later in the story. Evie has a hard time trusting Will for good reason if you ask me. Will had pretty much cut ties with her after her attempt to show Will that she had feelings for him, something that had crushed the soul of someone like Evie to an extent which she’d thought she would never get over from.

Though I didn’t overly fall in love with either Will or Evie, both were likable enough characters. Evie being a softie for anyone, male or female in distress and Will, the handsome war hero whose mere presence alone stirs Evie into doing things she would never think of otherwise. All said and done, I think Will and Evie are the perfect match for each other. Will brings out the passion in Evie, stirs her desires and delivers on them in the most panty melting fashion. Evie brings forth the playful side of Will, a man who has seen too much blood and senselessness on battlefields to last him a lifetime.

Recommended for fans of the series. I can’t wait to wade into Edie and Alasdair’s mess of a story. I am practically rubbing my hands in glee even now! Those two promise a fiery and stormy read and I have been hankering for one, for a long, long while.

Final Verdict: Spies, scandalous sex & a second chance at love. Makes for good storytelling!

Favorite Quotes

In the soft light, he did look rather like a wolf. His hair was a rough gold and his high cheekbones and rugged jaw lent a hard, almost fierce, cast to his features. As he prowled across the room, she had to resist the temptation to press a hand over her pounding heart. There was no reason for Will to make her nervous, and she needed to start believing that right now.
When he stopped just a few inches from where she’d plastered herself against the bookshelves, the slow, devastatingly attractive smile that curled up his oh-so-masculine mouth sent her pulse racing like a runaway horse. He stretched out an arm, resting a big hand on the mahogany shelf next to her head. It effectively caged her in.
“Why, Evie,” he said in a voice that made her shiver, “I’ve come to see if you need help.”

“Do you really want this? Want me?” she whispered, afraid to hope. She wanted so much for that to be true.
His eyelids lifted, and Evie’s heart skipped a beat at the passion that lit his eyes with a blue fire. “I want you, Evie— in my arms, in my bed, in my life.”
Those were the words she’d longed to hear. The walls she’d built against him, year after painful year, were crumbling into dust.
He pressed a searing kiss to her mouth, robbing her of breath and making her restless for more.
“I want you naked beneath me,” he said when he released her lips. “And I want you on top of me, my cock driving up into you while I play. I want you, Evie. Mine, forever.”

Evie was about to register a half-hearted objection when his mouth came down on hers again. Her protests were an- nihilated by the hot, slick glide of his tongue and the strength of his arms holding her snugly against him. For several minutes he simply held her on his lap, gently ravish- ing her with his lips and tongue, giving her the time to sink into a shimmering haze of boneless pleasure. With every kiss she felt the imprint of him on her mind and body and knew there was no going back. There was no one else who could draw forth the yearnings of her heart, nor would there ever be again.

Will clamped both hands on her bottom and surged one last time, high and hard, his strong thighs lifting her as he groaned out his release. His eyes were closed, his features pulled tight with passion. She clung to him, her own eyes filling with tears of gratitude and emotion as his powerful body shook under her hands.
As he finally came to rest beneath her, his eyelids rose and a slow, sensual smile curled his lips. With trembling hands, Evie brushed her fingers through his dishevelled golden hair.
“My Wolf,” she whispered, and then collapsed in his arms.

“Don’t bother on my account,” she said in a sarcastic voice as he retreated into what she assumed was his bedroom. “I’ve seen it before, as you no doubt recall.”
He whipped around to stare at her, his blue eyes heating with what she thought was irritation, but she couldn’t be entirely certain. The look on his face set her heart to thumping all over again.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, I assure you,” he said, growling like the lion he resembled.
“Don’t brag, Will,” she retorted. “It’s immodest.”
He braced his hands high on the doorframe, giving her an excellent view of the spectacular muscles in his chest and arms. “You are going to drive me completely insane, do you know that?”

“So pretty, Evie. Everything about you is so pretty.” His voice was a husky rumble that knifed through her.
“Will,” she whispered, her voice breaking with need.
His hot glance flicked up to hers, then he swooped in and fastened his mouth tightly on her sex. He sucked her into his mouth and Evie came apart in a sudden, explosive climax. She let out a high-pitched wail and curled up to grab his shoulders, clutching at him with shaking hands.
A moment later, Will surged up her body, bringing her hands up and clamping them over her head. He pushed into her, spinning her climax to impossible heights.

Evie could feel her eyes start to sting. “Wolf,” she whispered, her voice fracturing with emotion.
“Yes, love,” he said, in a tight voice. “I’m right here with you.”
She gripped his shoulders, staring into his gaze. She felt like her heart was splitting wide open.
“I love you,” she said.
He closed his eyes and came down on her, surging into her one last time before letting himself go, shaking in her arms as he found his release.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBookMall | ARe

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by mvbookreviewer

Requested ARC Review: Wanted by Dee Tenorio

Format: E-bookwanted
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Series: Deadly Secrets, #2
Publisher: Entangled
Hero: Rick Trelane
Heroine: Whitney Jean Peterson
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: July 21, 2015
Started On: July 24, 2015
Finished On: July 26, 2015

Wanted by Dee Tenorio is the 2nd book in the Deadly Secrets series. Story begins with the murder of one Brody Roberts, a murder that signals to the former Marine Rick Trelane that this is just the beginning of something deeper and darker than what it seems to be on the surface. Brody’s murder is of significance to Rick because of Brody’s “relationship” with Whitney Peterson, the woman whose existence remains the reason for Rick’s sanity, his best friend & the only person alive who could stir him into giving a damn about opening himself up once again.

Whitney holds secrets in her heart. Emotionally dark secrets that she has no intention of sharing with Rick and burdening him with. As it is, Rick holds the weight of the world on his shoulders. The shadows in his eyes, the darkness that he holds close to his heart is one that dissipates rarely, showing glimpses of the man whom Whitney has given her heart to, a long time back.

Reluctance is the name of the game when it comes to Rick. Reluctance to face what Whitney means to him, reluctance to expose himself to feeling anything that could devastate his world all over again. Reluctance to let Whitney in and face head on the explosive, world shattering variety of desire that connects them.

With the body count beginning to rise, Whitney gets promoted from being just a person of interest to a suspect that the police needs to bring in for questioning. And the only one that stands between Whitney and wrongful prosecution is Rick himself, willing to forgo every value that he has promised to uphold in his quest to root out the corruption that had darkened the doorways of the community.

Wanted is a story that contains elements which combined together definitely makes for a page turner. Rick himself is deliciousness redefined. Seeing Rick through Whitney’s eyes was a huge turn-on, the man being just a walking, brooding version of sex on a stick. Whitney is the heroine who is tough enough to nudge Rick towards the road of recovery. Haunted by a past that was earth shattering when it came to light, Whitney’s character just makes you want to bring out the pompoms and cheer her on. I was never more so proud of Whitney than the moment she decided to pursue Rick, to take matters into her own hands so to speak, even with all the memories of a past that continues unleash its claws on her, more recently of late.

Though the villain was not that hard to figure out, the twists that Dee provided towards the culmination of the story proved to be enticing enough to keep me riveted. Only thing more I could have asked for would have to be more scenes of passion between Rick and Whitney. Ones that would have “reaffirmed” the sexiness that defines all that is Rick Trelane.

Loved the thread of humor interwoven with the fabric of the story. One of the reasons that I love Dee’s voice so much is that she has the right touch of sarcastic and witty combined that gives the reader that much needed breather from the rest of the intense stuff happening in the story.

Wanted is a story that deals with difficult subjects with a high degree of sensitivity. The concept of therapy, moving forward, finding happiness; all this gives that much needed hope to anyone who might be going through a tough time in their lives. After all, that’s what romance novels are partly about. They fuel our dreams & hopes of a love that would never abate, will be reciprocated & withstand the test & ravages of time

Recommended.

Final Verdict: Dee Tenorio delivers a dark tale, as promised. Recommended!

Favorite Quotes

He had to go. He fucking had to. He had to let her go.
But she chose that moment to turn. To open her eyes. To sigh in relief that he was still there.
The choice was out of his hands.
He moved, drawn toward her like fire to air. He pushed through the kitchen door, colliding against her body and taking her mouth with a fury he couldn’t have held in if God himself commanded it. The taste of her flooded him, sweetness and fire, while her body melted into him. It wasn’t enough. He needed her closer. Needed her wrapped around him.

He heard her cry of surprise, used it to deepen the kiss until the carnality of it almost had him ripping at the fabric of her dress. She did nothing to stop him, either. Instead, she kissed him back, her desperate sounds urging him on. His fingers tightened on her hip, pushing her backward onto the table. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down with her, letting him take, demanding more, until he’d nearly climbed on the table with her.

He gasped against her lips, his entire body tightening like a bowstring being yanked.
She lifted herself higher, pulling back only enough to whisper words she hoped he couldn’t ignore. “I need you, Rick. I need you so much…”
He held out for a beat, two, but then he groaned, turning them so her back was against the wall. They hit it with a slam, his swearing the oddest thing to find sexy. Like the sound of a dam breaking, she thought distantly, the one sided kiss suddenly erupting into something that stole her breath completely.

Soon, all she could hear were her own sighs, his murmured encouragement and the roughening pace of their breathing. Her head fell back, arms crossed behind his head so he didn’t stop sucking that spot on her neck. His thumb sought out her clit again and thought completely disappeared. Passion turned to an inferno. She moved desperately, wanting more, wanting everything. All he was. All he’d ever wanted to be. All she’d never been able to give. That she’d never received. It all blended into a maelstrom until the pressure of it snapped, shocking a cry from them both, leaving them shuddering in each other’s arms.

Purchase Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | eBookMall | ARe | iTunes

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by mvbookreviewer

Review: Shield of Winter by Nalini Singh

Format: E-bookshieldofwinter
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Series: Psy-Changeling, #13
Publisher: Berkley
Hero: Vasic Duvnjak
Heroine: Ivy Jane
Sensuality: 3
Date of Publication: June 3, 2014
Started On: May 21, 2015
Finished On: June 06, 2015

Shield of Winter is the 13th book in the Psy-Changeling series. The book that comes after the most explosive title in the series, Heart of Obsidian. Shield of Winter tells the story of one of the most enigmatic characters of the elite group of soldiers of the Psy race, the ones that carry out the covert operations as required.

Vasic Duvnkak is an assassin, a soldier and an Arrow. With the volatile changes that had been happening to the three races living on Earth, the Psy world as Vasic has known it is rapidly changing, bringing along with it regrets of the kind written in blood, a conscience mired by a past that cannot be changed. Vasic is drifting further and further away from the roots that had kept him grounded, and until the inevitable end of his life, Vasic is willing to do whatever it takes to continue protecting his race, albeit minus the allegiance to the corrupt elite.

Ivy Jane is an empath, empaths being the Psy that had been brutally and viciously hunted down when the Psy world was initially established. Ivy becomes part of the group that is rounded up by Kaleb Krychek in order to save the Psy from an illness that has been ravaging the minds of Psy, rendering them mad beyond help. Ivy is helpless in the face of the sickness that seems to be accelerating its way through the NetMind, the bio feedback mechanism that is crucial for the Psy to survive.

Ivy and Vasic are both newbies to the world of sensation that had been forbidden for the Psy for so long. Vasic more so than Ivy because of the conditioning, training and torture that he had been subjected to when he had first been entered into the training academy for the Arrows. When Vasic chooses Ivy as the empath that he would protect till the mission ends, Vasic finds in Ivy, for the very first time in his life, a woman who makes him want. Want something more.

The journey of discovery that these two embark upon is a beautifully sensuous one, one that only an author of Nalini Singh’s caliber can deliver. The bloody turn that Psy’s world takes doesn’t detract from the connection that springs forth between Vasic and Ivy, a love that is beautiful in the way it develops.

Though Shield of Winter doesn’t obviously live up to the splendor that is Heart of Obsidian, it nevertheless gives fans of the series a read worth sinking their teeth into. Vasic is the type of hero that we all would love to cuddle, pet and call our own. Not because he’s the cuddly, warm and fuzzy type. But because he is just the opposite. Reserved, a touch cold and aloof, Vasic is the type of hero that makes women want to claim them as their own. Vasic is downright delicious. Though a virgin, Vasic’s focus on “matters” at hand makes everything doubly more so sensual!

Ivy is just the sort of woman that a man like Vasic needs. A man on the brink of crossing over, not caring much about how or when his end arrives. But in Ivy, Vasic finds the sort of strength he never thought he was capable of, the strength and will to focus on living than the inevitable end of the cycle of life. Vasic’s back story is one that would make even the hardest of hearts thaw. Ivy’s equally horrific, but made a trifle bit better owing to protective parents. Beyond the romance, there is of course always the fascinating world that Nalini has created with this series, that in itself a reason enough  to get lost in these books!

Recommended for fans of the Psy-Changeling series. Nalini writes beautifully. That is one reason why these books are not to missed out on!

Final Verdict: In the fall of Silence, nothing will ever be the same ever again. Great storytelling, as always!

Favorite Quotes

Ivy bit down on her lower lip, released the swollen flesh . . . and tugged the top off over her head. Raising one hand to pull back strands of her hair that had curled over her face, she didn’t attempt to hide herself from him, the plump mounds of her breasts cupped by a confection of ivory satin and lace. “That’s not Psy issue,” he said, fighting every single cell in his body not to push the delicate fabric aside and look his fill.
Ivy’s own breathing was unsteady, her breasts rising and falling as if in invitation. “No,” she admitted in a husky tone. “I’ve always liked certain textures against my skin.” Raising one hand, she pushed off a strap.”

Ivy’s breath was a sob. “Don’t ever give up.” Using her free hand to cup the hand he had around her wrist, she bent her head to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Promise me.”
His entire body in shock at the sweet, hot caress, he nodded. For her, he’d conquer even the dark numbness that had been eating him alive for years. “I promise.” He touched her hair. “Ivy, I was trying to protect you.” He’d never intended this bond to form, never intended to cause her pain. “From the terrible things I’ve done, the destructive choices I’ve made, the broken mess inside me.”
Ivy shook her head, her expression haunted. “It was too late the first day we met. You’re inside me, and I’m inside you. It’s done.”

He squeezed her nape. “Kiss me,” he repeated.
Ivy licked her lips, slid her hands up to his shoulders, and confessed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Neither do I,” he responded, the glittering silver of his eyes on her mouth. “Arrows learn by repetition and practice until the basic skill is honed, at which point we begin to specialize.”
The words should’ve been dry, but they made her breasts swell, her nipples so plump and tight the lace of her bra became abrasive. Because he was talking about repetition and practice when it came to intimate contact. Kissing. Touching. Sex. Her lips parted and he lowered his head.
“Do it again, Ivy,” he murmured, his breath mingling with her own. “Repetition—”
“And practice,” she completed, and brushed her lips over his.

When Vasic broke contact, his forehead pressed against hers and his breath jagged, she caressed his cheek, kissed the clean-shaven smoothness of his jaw. Never had she felt so alive, so pleasured. But below that was a sexual hunger brutal in its ferocity, hard and dark . . . and then she knew. It wasn’t her desire she was sensing. It was his.
Body melting even further, she kissed his jaw again. “I’m picking up your desire. Do you mind?”
“No.” He kissed her again on the heels of that statement, one hand on her lower back, the other on the side of her neck.
Then he licked his tongue against hers.
Her brain exploded.

“Vasic.” Soft breath, Ivy’s lips on his throat.
Fingers tightening into fists, he stood in place, his head bowed slightly and his arms trapping her. Instead of fighting to escape, she kissed his throat again, licked out with her tongue to taste him. It made every muscle in his body go tight, the tattered vestiges of the psychological brainwashing he’d survived attempting to overlay the pleasure with pain, but he didn’t move.
“Vasic,” she whispered again, her kiss damp this time, the sensation going straight to his rock-hard erection. “My Vasic.”

Turning toward her, he braced himself with his palms on either side of her head, his bare skin inches from her, the heat of him smashing against her hungry skin. And his fury . . . that was a stunning thing, the storm in his eyes molten silver.
“I can’t give you what you want.” It came out ice-cold, but those eyes, those eyes . . . “I thought—” He shook his head. “You can’t change the core of a man, Ivy. You can’t take a man christened in blood and make him into something better.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes, furious at the way he continued to see himself. “I don’t want you to change. Haven’t I made that clear?” Rising on tiptoe, she fisted her hands in his hair. “I want you. All of you. Even the part that infuriates me.”

Chest heaving, Ivy stared at him, the suspicion on her face making something twist deep inside him, the strange emotion at once gentle and fierce. “Wait for me in your bedroom,” he said, taking what he needed because Ivy had said he could have it. Have her.
Ivy had fought for his right to have her.
She never denied him, never punished him by withholding the touch he craved—her touch—and he planned to take terrible advantage. Now and always. “I need to make sure everything is secure before I join you.” The mattress on his bed was hard, would discomfort her. “I want you under me, naked and aroused and mine.”

A lazy, affectionate smile that caught at his heart and refused to let go. “I flaked, huh?”
“You needed rest,” Vasic answered. And then he kissed her.
Ivy responded with the lush generosity that had already made him an addict. Sliding her arms around his neck and bending one leg at the knee to cradle him between her thighs, she surrendered her mouth to his desires. And he took, devoured. He hadn’t understood how starved he was of touch until he met Ivy. Now, she was the only one who could ease the piercing ache of his need.

His fingers curled around her nape. Are you going to be mad at me for this our entire life?
She nodded. You should’ve waited for me.
I never dared dream of you, Ivy. I never thought a man like me deserved such a gift.
Petting his chest, she said, You’re my gift, too, you know. I’m so glad for you every instant of every day. Even when I’m really, really angry with you.

“I need to ask you some highly personal questions.”
Judd reached down to pack the snow into a ball. “I’ve been hoping for a long time that someone else in the squad would get to the point where a discussion like this would be necessary.” Rising, he threw the snowball with a fast arm. “Ask.”
“How do you control your telekinesis while intimate with your mate?”
“I broke a damn lot of furniture at the start, including two beds.” A curious glance. “What are you doing?”
“Traveling around the world.”

“This will likely hurt.” He didn’t like the idea, but it was a biological fact they couldn’t escape.
Ivy wrapped her legs around his hips. “Love me, let me love you.”
He gritted his teeth, guided himself to her, and began to push. She was slick and hot and so tightly stretched around him that he felt he’d rip her open. “Ivy.”
Clutching at his shoulders, she gasped, “So . . . you’re built in proportion, then.”
The unexpected words gave him the breathing room he needed. Kissing her on that sweet, soft, generous mouth, he said, “Unfortunately.”
A sensually feminine smile. “I have a feeling that won’t be the correct description once we begin to do this on a regular basis.”

“Leaving them tangled around her thighs, he squeezed one cheek with a blatantly possessive touch, then dipped his hand between her legs. “You’re liquid.” Crushed rocks and sexual heat, that was his voice.
Ivy’s answer required no thought. “Because it’s you.”
Movement behind her, the back of his hand brushing her buttocks. The sound of a zipper. Fabric being pushed down. And then he was gripping her hips to tilt her farther forward as he pushed into her with relentless focus. Making incoherent sounds of need, she was hardly aware of the world altering between sand and the wall and back over and over. Every cell in her body was focused on Vasic, on feeling the thick intrusion of him stretching her flesh.
This position permitted nothing else.

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by mvbookreviewer

ARC Review: Under Contract by Jeffe Kennedy

Format: E-bookundercontract
Read with: iBooks for iPad
Length: Novel
Genre: Erotic Romance
Series: Falling Under, #3
Publisher: Carina Press
Hero: Ryan Black
Heroine: Celestina Sala
Sensuality: 4
Date of Publication: July 7, 2015
Started On: July 19, 2015
Finished On: July 24, 2015

Celestina Sala (Tina) is practically at her wits end when she runs into the rich and darkly enigmatic Ryan Black, for whom she had done some contract water landscaping work a couple of years back. Ryan believes that Tina crosses his path this time due to serendipity, that it was nature’s way of giving back to him Tina, a “free” Tina by the looks of her ringless status, something that had prevented him from acting out on his attraction to her the first time around.

Tina finds herself in dire financial circumstances owing to the twisted turns her life had taken recently. Divorced and saddled with two nieces, Tina finds herself at a loss when Ryan proposes to her something that entices her as much as it makes her feel like she’s bowing down to world’s oldest profession of prostituting her body for a living.

As Ryan sees it, the contract between them is pretty simple. Never having had the urge to settle down, Ryan knows that his darker desires are not meant to be imposed on just anybody. But in Tina he believes that he has found a woman who would suite him perfectly, in bed and out of it. But convincing Tina of the fact, well, that’s the interesting part.

Under Contract by Jeffe Kennedy is the 3rd book in her BDSM contemporary erotic romance series Falling Under. I first encountered this series on Netgalley when the 2nd book came out, which proved to be a hit with me. Though I didn’t love Under Contract as much as I did Under His Touch, this still managed to give a good read that kept the pages turning.

Jeffe Kennedy definitely has a way with writing BDSM romances. They might follow the usual tropes but she always has something special to give you, that definitely leaves you wanting more. Jeffe’s stories answer to that need in me for dark stories. Darkly emotional tales. And I hope she never stops writing them. Because very few authors actually do.

I liked Ryan and Celestina well enough. Both having suffered through their own tragedies. Only thing I missed and wanted to see was that impressive control of Ryan’s shatter into pieces where Celestina was concerned. Perhaps I’d have to satisfy myself with the way he laid himself bare to her emotionally, risked it all to let her see that she wasn’t in his life just for the kink they both equally enjoyed and got off on.

Though I enjoy a good emotionally well balanced BDSM romance, I admit that the the whole master/slave concept is definitely not for me. I thought I’d have to grit my teeth over how Ryan kept Celestina from achieving fulfillment, I even jotted down “Ugh. This denial thing.” And then within the next couple of pages, I was proved so brilliantly wrong that I swear had it not been for the AC running in the room, sweat would’ve popped out on my forehead from the combustive heat of it all. Fabulous delivery Ms. Kennedy. Just utterly fabulous!

Under Contract proved to be quite educative in other aspects too. I’ve been encountering news on the drought that has hit California in recent times & would never have thought on how badly actually it is affecting the lives and livelihoods of people in the area. This book actually managed to drive home the point that none of it is easy. I love books that prove insightful in little ways that most might perhaps consider unimportant. And this was one of those books for me.

One little aspect that touched the techie inside of me was how the contract between Ryan & Tina was managed, using a nifty little app that allowed Ryan to key in what he wanted and allowed Tina to select what she was willing to accept. I’ve always held the belief that it is a bit “embarrassing” & perhaps a bit tacky that in books like the Fifty Shade of Grey that lawyers were involved in drawing up a contract of the kind that would have definitely meant people outside the intimate circle of the couple knowing what they were up to. Perhaps that is just the prude in me, but this way? Totally worked!

And man. The cover though! Makes me want to take a bite out of it. That fab looking.

Recommended for fans of BDSM themed erotic contemporary romances.

Final Verdict: Emotional with sex torrid enough to leave a permanent blush all over you!

Favorite Quotes

He spoke quietly, the sound part caress, part scraping over her nerves. “I want you, Celestina. I want the feel of your skin under my hands, to see your spectacular body naked and feel you writhing under me. I want to hear you out of breath from ecstasy instead of nervousness, for you to gasp my name in my ear as you come. I want to push you past every boundary you ever thought you had and for you to go there because I made you. I want you to do things you think are wicked and discover how much you like them. Most of all, I want to be there with you, so I can savor your scent, the hot clasp of your body, lick up your sweat and tears, drink in every small sound you make as you lose yourself to the pleasure I can give you.”

A soft moan arose out of her depths and he made a sound in return, of agreement, and deepened the kiss so she had to tip her head back until it hit the high wooden edge of the chair. He pursued, the kiss going from gently sensual to fiercely sexual.
Rather than frightening her, the increasing demand released some of her nerves, much as he’d promised. As if the power of the kiss broke through her barriers, the careful shell of numbness she’d wrapped herself in.

He helped her wriggle into the sheath dress and zipped it up. “Wait,” she said, her mind clearing. “My bra?”
Loving the way her brow creased in consternation, he pocketed it. “I thought I’d keep it, a souvenir to get me through a dull afternoon.” Unable to keep his hands off her, he massaged her breasts through the light crepe, rolling her nipples so her head dropped back on a moan. “I’ll put my hand in my pocket and remember how this felt, how you shuddered and moaned for me. And you, when your naked nipples brush against your dress, you’ll remember this, too.”

He pushed the chains aside to flank the outsides of her labia, making her struggle anew as they scraped over her sensitized tissues. Managing to roll on a condom, he positioned himself at her hungry entrance, bracing himself on his elbows over her, to find her mouth waiting for his. She arched her back, body begging for the penetration even as her lips pulled at his, pleading moans coming from deep in her throat.
He thrust into her, going momentarily blind with the searing sensation, both at the tight clasp of her body, like liquid fire, and her shuddering response. She wrenched her mouth away, gasping his name. And he answered, reverentially, “Celestina.”

Then he pulled out of her, ditched the condom and came around to her head. He stood over her, his chest still pumping with his harsh breaths, then brushed her sweat-drenched hair back from her forehead. He pressed a finger against her mouth and she opened, drawing it in and sucking on it as he seemed to want. A smile of tenderness softened his face and he replaced the finger with his mouth, drawing on her with a greedy hunger.
Lifting his head, he caressed her throat, spanning it in one big hand.
“Mine,” he whispered.
In that moment, it was utterly, obviously true. Nothing else existed but this, belonging to him. His slave. She could deny him nothing. Not even her shredded heart.
“Yours,” she answered.”

Once he had the vibrator in place and securely strapped on, he entered her again, holding the control in one hand and one of the nipple clamps with the other. She shuddered, anticipating.
Simultaneously, he yanked off the clamp and flipped the switch to the highest setting. Celestina convulsed, screaming indeed, as her body shot into intense orgasm, bucking against his cock and milking him so hard that he nearly came with her.

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